Antidote
by Poison's Ivy
Summary: After being fired for helping Tim Scam escape, Sam found herself depressed & angry. This could never happen again, she thought, and to make sure it didn't happen again, she would fight criminals until she was sure they'd never get back up again. Scam/Sam
1. Chapter 1

**Title: Antidote  
Summary: **After being fired for helping a criminal escape, Sam found herself depressed and angry. This could never happen again, she thought, and to make sure it DIDN'T happen again, she would fight them until she was sure they'd NEVER get back up again.  
**Rating: **T? M for Murder? I'm not sure yet but I'm positive you all can handle dead bodies. If not I'll warn you in advance.**  
Pairing: Scam/Sam

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They hated her…

But it was, it was just a onetime thing—a fluke, a mistake, an attempt to give someone else another chance at life—

They only shook their heads when she explained this to them. They didn't understand. Evident by their glares, the hatred spewing from their mouths, the perverse words exiting their lips.

They hated her.

The rest of it happened in such a blur that even she had a hard time remembering the exact events. All she could remember were their glares—

_Brittany sighed softly, slowly looking away from her… _

Their anger—

_Clover glared at her from the corner of her eye, not bothering to even look at her, the girl she called a best friend… _

Their shock—

_Jerry's face scrunched up into one of disappointment as his old eyes rested upon his once-favorite spy. _

The world felt numb now, like a silent chill had passed over everyone but only encased her in its painful grip. Her eyes were stinging, aching from the tears she had shed to prove her loyalty to them, but they didn't care.

The air stopped around her, and it seemed time had as well. The cars may have been moving but she couldn't hear them. She only felt herself, her heart dropping down to her stomach, ricocheting in her intestines and tugging at her, pulling her down, deeper into a depression she couldn't help but succumb to.

No one trusted her anymore… No one. No Clover or Alex to tell secrets to, no Brittany to laugh at jokes with, no Jerry to look up to as a father-figure… And her parents…

Well her parents were gone from her life. Long gone, leaving her alone in a world that did not know the meaning of "family".

She looked up, slowly recognizing the door of the house she lived in—used to live in. Frowning, she looked down. Of course they wouldn't let her live here, with them. Either they moved out or they stayed in, and it wasn't fair tear something that they rightfully owned. After all, good citizens were supposed to own nice homes and live in nice places, not villains, not accomplices to murderers.

She quietly opened the door, inserting the key inside for the last time, and went inside. Looking around the memory-filled apartment she felt her heart clenching, as if someone took her heart into her hand and starting to lightly crush it, their fingers slipping against the blood around her weakened heart, clenching it, grabbing it, forcing it to drop down. All she could do in response was gulp, trying to satisfy the aching in her chest but it wasn't going away!

… Nothing would make it go away.

She slowly walked up to her room, her padded feet softly rubbing against the smooth wooden steps without friction, and opened her door, looking around at the tidy area. A soft smile came to her face when she remembered how Clover and Alex had caught her room as a messy place, effectively pointing out that she was a hypocrite for telling them to clean their rooms when she didn't even clean hers.

But the smile died away when she remembered how _he _was partially the cause of them finding out. If they hadn't gone on that mission that day… maybe then they wouldn't have barged into her room and next time she would have to be extra careful—

Wait. There was no next time.

The smile died from her face, the clenching feeling in her heart returned, and she resumed cleaning up her room.

Half an hour later the luggage was packed, her clothes neatly tidied up, and her money and personal belongings all together in a bag. She looked around the room, seeing a bare bed with an empty dresser, a blank mirror and stripped walls.

Nothing was left.

Her heart tugged at her again when she saw the photo frame smashed to the ground. She couldn't bear to see their faces again, not after this…

Besides, they probably didn't want any memory of her anyway.

She grabbed the heavy suitcases with her hand, the bars tightening under her grip, and she sighed as she hung her shoulder bag over her shoulders and resumed to walk out before they could walk in and see her leaving.

Wouldn't they stop her? Weren't they her friends, wasn't that what they were supposed to **do**?

No. She thought quietly as she moved down the stairs. They didn't regard her as a friend, so she supposed she couldn't do so either.

In minutes the years she had spent here would disappear, and any future plans she had hoped to have would have to be crushed.

She had a new life to build. One of solitude, of disappointment, of _loneliness _because she never wanted to feel this pain again. The pain of her heart slowing down as she walked away from the people she had trusted. The pain of her mind crumbling to dust as she removed the memories she wanted to keep. The pain of her friends abandoning her when she needed them the most.

They were best friends forever weren't they?

So why weren't they acting like it? Sure she had made a mistake but didn't everybody? Why should she be punished so severely for doing something her heart told her was _right_?

The tears started again, blurring up her vision as she hastily put the luggage in the trunk of her car, putting the other large suitcase in the backseat because it wouldn't _fit_; of course it wouldn't fit there were too many memories, too many things to sacrifice.

She roughly wiped away at her eyes before entering the driver's seat. She adjusted the rearview mirror to take a last glimpse at her home—

No… It was their home now. She did not belong. Accomplices to _criminals_ did not belong.

She re-adjusted the mirror before plugging the key into the ignition and starting up the car. For now a hotel would have do; she didn't have enough time to get an apartment—

Crap. How was she going to _pay _for an apartment? She had enough money saved for a hotel… but an apartment needed the first month of rent, plus the one month security and then the payment to the owner and—

_Dammit. _She thought, letting her head rest on the wheel of the car. She couldn't ask her parents for money now; they would ask her why she wasn't with Clover and Alex; what happened; did they have a fight?

And she didn't have the answers to those questions right now, at least, not any answers that were acceptable.

Now she was going to be homeless… she could only stay in a hotel for so long and _dammit. _This was his fault! If he hadn't hurt himself and gave WOOHP an easy capture… if her soul wasn't so forgiving, if her heart didn't still feel that _tug _every time he was near her.

Her hand curled into a fist at her thoughts. This was unacceptable. As a WOOHP agent—

"_You're fired, Samantha", Jerry said with a frown, his tone disapproving but telling her he didn't want to do this but he had no choice. _

… As a … as a human _being_, she should have known right from wrong. She should have done the right thing, (but it wasn't the right thing to do, her mind whispered), and given Scam's unconscious body to WOOHP instead of hiding away, making sure he felt better because no one should be targeted when they're down…

He wasn't feeling well. Were they really supposed to take advantage of that?

_This isn't fair! _She thought again with blurry, stinging eyes, her breath shaky. She quickly put the car into gear before pressing the gas pedal and merging into the rush hour traffic; at least now her car would be unrecognizable with all the other red cars on the street.

How could WOOHP blame her, HER, when it fact it was their own incompetence for not catching Scam? How dare they ask her, their _best_ agent, to sacrifice her morals and do what's **wrong** instead of what's right?

And, she thought furiously, her mind changing her depression into anger and focusing on everyone else _but _her, how _dare _she feel bad for Scam? He was her enemy, the man who tried to kill her multiple times! She should be angry at _him_, not at WOOHP, (but she knew deep down that ideal was switched. She was angry at WOOHP and could never be angry at Scam for reasons that she still didn't understand… didn't **want** to understand), but here she was, angry at herself.

Because… she was to blame for what happened wasn't she? _She _was the one who betrayed WOOHP. _She _was the one who took pity on Scam and hide him until he felt better. _She _was the one who picked morals over the battle between good and evil, between WOOHP and criminals, between Jerry, (her friends…) and Scam.

She was lucky they didn't arrest her.

She heard yelling outside and saw three bank robbers (in black jumpsuits, the ski masks and the works) running from a bank with bags of money in their hands. Apparently the rush hour traffic was surprising to them, (such stupid idiots, she sourly thought), and they were arguing with each other on which way to go.

The need to stop her car in the middle of the street was tempting. She could go up there and kick their asses into next week! She could, and if she got in trouble with the cops she could always just pull out her badge and…

Oh. Right.

She had no badge. It was stripped away because she had to help criminals like him, like _them_.

Well… it was never going to happen again, she thought with a scowl on her face. If she couldn't fight evil then the least she could do was **not** help evil grow more and more…

_No more "Scam" instances. _

No, never again.

She would **never** make this mistake again, the mistake of picking her heart over her head, of picking irrationality over rationality, of picking Scam over WOOHP.

No. Never. Again.

Her hand was tightly gripping the gear shift, it still being on "drive" and although she knew she should have parked and let the police handle this, (this place was going to be a crowded mess and getting out of here quickly didn't look like an option), she couldn't help but keep it on drive.

Something told her things were about to get interesting… ominous, but interesting.

Besides, what else did she have to lose?

She kept her trained eyes on the three crooks in front of her, watching the fools argue as the police neared by closer and closer and—

_Crap_, she thought as one of them took out a gun, aiming for a random civilian as a police officer aimed his gun at the robber.

No… he was going to shoot; she could feel it, because as incompetent as the robbers seemed to be, they apparently didn't have anything to lose either.

They were going to do down with a fight, taking everyone they could down with them.

She couldn't let that happen because WOOHP agent or not, she was supposed to stand up for the people who couldn't risk their lives like she could.

Her hand gripped the steering wheel. She was never going to make the mistake of letting a criminal roam free ever again, she promised herself, and she knew she would do anything to keep that promise.

Even if it meant pressing the gas pedal with full speed and crushing the robber, making him drop his gun and hopefully injuring him for _life. _

Because that way she would be insuring her promise. He would never roam free again and she would never have to _worry_ about him getting out. If you're dead, you can't ever hope to have a second chance to do whatever it is you wish to do, unlike in a jail cell where people like _Scam _could get out easily, could easily give her another chance to fuck up and destroy everything she had built.

It was _never_ going to happen. She would fight them until they went down and then she would insure they _stayed _down.

She had nothing to lose, after all.

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**Tada! That, my dear friends, is the beginning of ****Antidote**** (credits to Cresenta's Lark for the title). I know I have multiple stories but I **_**really **_**wanted to write, and writing this was easy and fun and muahahhaahaa-ish. I will … TRY to plan this out so writer's block never hits me. And Cresenta, please take this as a "welcome back to the world of the Internet" gift.**

**I'm taking advantage of the fact that I have time to write while I can. Spring Break is still on for a few more days. :)  
**

**Please review! I want your opinion on this! Chapter 2 will be up… as soon as I write it. **

**Love,  
Ivy**


	2. Chapter 2

All she wanted were a pair of arms to wrap around her torso, encasing her in a warmth of comfort and pleasure. Arms that would stop making her think of the betrayals, and instead of the way their fingers would curl up against her abdomen, or the way the sweater they were wearing would cause her arms to itch.

But who would hug her, a criminal by association?

Sam slowly lifted the burning cigarette to her mouth, inhaling the suicidal fumes, reveling in the way her heart seemed to lift as she breathed in the toxic air. She twirled the cigarette with her manicured fingernails-she was still a girl, after all- and blankly stared at the sidewalk in front of her as she leaned against a brick building, watching the snow fall lightly and turning into water once it hit the ground. It was like she was a little girl again, one so innocent and kind, who was watching snow fall for the first time, who never thought her morals would be the very thing to decieve her.

Well, if this was the price to pay for listening to the nonsense of her conscious, then she learnt her lesson well.

There were days, (and nights, long nightmare-filled, lonely nights with no one to hug her), where she remembered Tim Scam and his lack of a conscience. She may have last seen him only a year ago, but there were days she berated herself for even helping him, (because she was just lost and wanted to go home), and there were days when she secretly wondered what a great life he led by not having morals to stop him. Sure, he got caught a lot, but it didn't matter much. He could easily escape anyway. He was intelligent enough.

She was too. Intelligent, she means, because if she can't even escape the memories of a single night, then she was doomed to never escape a prison cell.

She took another drag of the poisonous stick and kind of wished she could die faster. Her life was lonely, and even college was becoming discouraging. Sam remembered the days when school had been her pride, her honor, and now it was just a faded memory. She had transferred out out Mali U. quite a while back, (was it really a year?), just so she wouldn't have to face the burden of seeing her friends laughing every day without her, but now she was regretting that decision, because while Harvard was quite an honor, she missed her friends and would do anything just so see them laughing, even if they were laughing without her.

She was just a little girl after all.

Not so much of a girl now, she thought bitterly as she placed the cigarette on her lips again, but more of a ... what was it WOOHP called her? A criminal?

She snorted. Sam couldn't even pretend she forgot what they did to her, because the memories replayed themselves every night, in her nightmares. She forgot what it felt like to have dreams. Nice, simple, happy dreams. Now every night she had the choice of a nightmare or increasing darkness, and she wasn't sure which one was worse.

Sometimes (many times), Sam wished WOOHP had just thrown her into jail and have been done with her. Labeled her as a criminal and left her there to rot. Another drag. Sam knew she deserved it too, especially after she _accidentally _hit some stupid robber with her car and acted her way out of prison by playing a damsel in distress.

At least in jail she would have an identity. Right now she was nothing more than a girl (almost a woman) wrapped up in a black and white checkered pea coat with a white scarf wrapped tightly around her neck , leaning against a wall with one leg kicked back, smoking a cigarette.

Sometimes it hurt to grow up so fast.

* * *

It was like a knife to her heart- she didn't see it coming, and she didn't expect it to _hurt this much_.

Sam thought that in her little cosy city of Cambridge, she'd be left alone, with no WOOHP to blame her and no handsome criminals trying to distract her from her job. But both painful reminders were sitting at a table to her right, hiding their blonde and black hair with menus, pretending to order when it was obvious that they were whispering about something.

Sam snorted into her cup of coffee. How many times had they done that and actually thought it worked?

"Hey Sammie mind if I grab that table over there?" her co-worker Laura asked as she passed by Sam with a notepad and pencil in hand, while donned in the same maroon apron Sam was wearing. Sam followed the brunette's finger, which was pointing, coincidentally, to Alex and Clover's table. Sam smirked a little, before telling Laura that "it was all hers".

Finishing her coffee, Sam put it on the counter that she was leaning against (she had turned a little lazy over the past year), and pulled the rubber band to shake her hair out of the ponytail it was in. Flipping her hair over, Sam gathered the red strands (which now reached her mid back, not as long as before) into her hands before putting it back up into a high ponytail.

Sam, as much as she tried not to, couldn't help but glance at the two girls whose previous conversation had diminished because of Laura's presence. She couldn't hear them from here, but couldn't help but feel like she _wanted_ to hear them...

No. What was she even thinking? They had betrayed her, kicked her out and stabbed her in the back because of the morals that they were supposed to live by as WOOHP agents. Sam scoffed under her breath, mumbling quietly about how morals were idiotic and Scam had been living the right life the entire time. She was better off as a criminal... At least it would give her life some kind of fucked up meaning.

Reaching for her pockets Sam frowned when she couldn't find her pack of cigarettes. Did she leave it in the back? Turning around Sam went to look for her purse in the back of the diner.

Meanwhile a few tables away, after they had hurriedly ordered some soda and fries, Clover leaned over the table to make sure Alex and only Alex could hear her.

"Do you see him?"

Alex shook her head, sighing as she sipped at her water absentmindedly. Clover let out a disgruntled sigh, before twirling her drink with a straw. "This is ridiculous. We haven't caught sight of this guy yet and I have a date to go on!"

Alex stayed quiet, simply staring at her water. Only when Clover called her name out the third time did she look up with a startled "What?" Clover frowned at her friend's behavior, not that it didn't mimic her own.

"You're thinking about... Sam, arent' you?"

Alex pursed her lips, knowing Sam was a taboo topic around Jerry... but what Jerry didn't know wouldn't hurt them. She spoke with a sullen voice, "If she was here we would have caught this bad guy a long time ago."

Clover gave her a warning glare: Jerry wasn't very tolerant of them mentioning Sam around him. She didn't know if Jerry was hurt from Sam's betrayal or whatever else, but she was still someone they were not to mention.

Alex started at Clover with a knowing look in her eyes, "You know I'm right."

Clover hesitated a little before sighing and shrugging weakly, "Yea..." A small smile erupted on her face, "Remember when she thought she could live without materialistic items?"

Alex burst out laughing at the memory, "Oh yea! That was way too funny!"

Clover smirked, "She learned her lesson- Shoes, clothes, makeup and jewelry are a girl's best friend."

Alex bit her lip before saying, "Remember when she became a warrior woman?"

"Remember when she had a crush on Sca-" Clover froze. The smile on her face died instantly as she remembered the reason Sam had been fired. Alex too understood what Clover's silence meant. The two girls each wore grim faces, freckled with hints of sorrow.

"I miss her", Alex said quietly, while Clover nodded her head in agreement. "She always... knew what to do. On missions, at school, at home... and when she left-"

Clover interrupted Alex's sentence, "We're lost without her."

The two stayed silent again, remembering the smiling redhead they once called a best friend.

"I wonder what she's doing now?" Alex asked out loud, staring at a point behind Clover. Clover's face turned grim again.

"We're not supposed to talk about her Alex", Clover said as stern as she could. "We could get in trouble." Clover looked up to find the brunette waitress who had served them before.

Alex opened her mouth to speak when Clover raised up her hand to silence her, her blue eyes widened in shock. Alex's mouth fell a little in confusion, so she turned around and her jaw dropped when she saw a redheaded girl with a ponytail leave the restaurant.

"That wasn't-"

"No way."

Both girls stood up in a frenzy, rushing over each other to press their faces against a window to spot the red head girl who was out in the parking lot fiddling with a small pack.

"It looks like her-"

"Yea but what would _Sam _be doing _here_?"

Alex bit her lip, quiet for a moment. "... Do you know where Sam transferred to?" It was no secret that Sam had abruptly transferred out of Malibu University for some "unknown" reason. Everyone figured she probably went to a school worth her brain power.

Clover rolled her eyes, "Harvard, where else? ... Well at least that's what I heard." A part of her was saddened that she didn't even know where her best friend went to college. She didn't bother telling that to Alex though.

"Well..." Alex said with a knowing tone, "We're in Cambridge, Masschussets right?"

Clover raised an eyebrow.

"That's where Harvard is, duh!" Clover made an "o" shape with her mouth in understand. The two spies looked back at the window where the red haired girl who looked like Sam was smoking.

Clover shook her head and distanced herself from the window immediately. "That's not Sam. Harvard or not Sam would never smoke. We probably just mistook her for some other girl."

Alex softly sighed, her gut telling her otherwise, but nonetheless followed Clover back into the diner.

* * *

His head leaned against against the metal walls of the cell, with his eyes closed as he imagined himself walking out of here with too frozen in fear to stop him. Heh, that wasn't too far from the truth- at least it wasn't last year.

It was a Monday, he vividly remembered, for he had planned that day to be a Monday- it would then give him two days maximum to reach a safehouse on Wednesday, and from there on he would be able to catch his flight. It didn't take long for his plan to succeed- he had injected every guard that came to his cell with a toxic serum that he had been able to make outside of WOOHP's cells when he had escaped a few months before. That serum would then leave them writhing in extreme pain in a day, and once they were hospitalized and had I.V. fluids injected into their system (thus mixing with the serum), they would die.

Of course, he thought with a bitter frown, WOOHP's close quarters had made him susceptible to the serum. Only a drop of it had reached a cut that he had gotten when fighting with the spies before his escape. Sleeping in these stupid cots did nothing to help heal him. Instead the cut had reopened as he was toying with the blue liquid.

He wasn't stupid. He knew that the possibility of a drop mixing with his blood would further elongate the pain... little by little his joints started to ache, his skin started to sweat, his eyes turned redder each day, but by the time he was able to escape, the spies stopped him just a few miles from this prison.

He had been weak, weaker than he would like to admit. It took him five extra minutes to get rid of Clover and Alex but Sam... Sam was tougher, for reasons he couldn't understand. Weak or not he was still the stronger one out of the two of them, but when he tried to deliver the final blow-

She had helped him. It was embarrassing for him to fall like he did, but the serum was taking his toll on him. He needed that antidote that was hidden in his house, (he hated to admit that too. Him needing anything was a flaw in his character), and Sam... Sam had helped him get home, despite the fact that she needed to get him back into jail.

It wasn't until much later that he heard of the consequences her actions had. Apparently there were rumors of a heartless Jerry (hah, heartless. This is rich coming from himself) had _fired _Sam for helping him escape. Eventually when he was captured into jail he found out that the rumors were indeed true; Jerry fired Sam, who had now disappeared for a year.

He toyed with the idea of contacting her, after all WOOHP firing her would only make her vengeful, but he didn't do anything about it then. A betrayal from her friends would either go two ways: turn her depressed or angry. He needed time for that depression or anger to germinate, and then he would make his move.

It was a year since that day... Surely her mind had decided what path she should take by now.

He opened one eye when he heard another prison mate clinking with something in the cell next to him. Standing from his sitting position, he walked to the front of his cell, listening through the small circles for air that were curved into the plexiglass wall.

That clinking sounded like... His eyes widened while his lips curled into a small smirk. The signal was sent- all the prisoners seemed on edge right at that moment, all of them arriving to the front of their cells just as he had. He locked eyes with a prisoner across the hall from him, and nodded curtly.

In seconds they all moved back at the prison doors opened for them, and as they all escaped, Tim Scam slowly smirked as he thought it was time to pay Sam a visit.

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**Sorry for this taking a long time to update; my life has taken a turn for the worse and hopefully it will be over soon. **

**Reviews would really make me happy (something I need from time to time).**

**Love,  
Ivy**


	3. Chapter 3

**Hey guys. So for the record, college is ridiculously time-consuming. Or maybe that's just my mom making me drive her everywhere… **

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Even classes seemed dull.

At least that's what Sam thought, her eyes lazily watching the professor lecture about Newton's Third law and drawing diagrams that she had already predicted in her own mind. After seeing Clover and Alex yesterday for the first time in a year, Sam had gone back to her dingy little apartment and buried her head in her Physics textbook, hoping that such an action would remove the pain of her heart sinking inwards that she had felt after seeing her friends talk so casually.

Paying for that apartment was a nuisance, she thought, but at least it was a better hiding spot than taking residence up in the dorms at Harvard. She wasn't stupid; she knew WOOHP could have still been looking for her (though she doubted it; what good would a former-spy-turned-evil be to them? Unless they thought she was going to commit some other crime. She wouldn't put it past them.), so she had taken up a small, almost broken down apartment. It cost more than it was worth, so she had to pull long hours at the diner to cover rent, food and books. Occasionally she'd save enough money to replace the clothes that had long faded and been worn.

Normally she wouldn't work while studying; such an action could be fatally distracting for her studies.

But Sam found time. At night, when all that happened when she closed her eyes would be memory after memory, brutally torturing her psyche until she finally got up and declared insomnia for that night.

_It happened almost every night. Until she finally got exhausted and fell on her bed and slept without dreams. Those were the nights she craved. _

A strand of hair fell in front of her face and Sam almost glared at the orange-red color. Perhaps she should have dyed her hair; what were the chances of Clover and Alex seeing her and reconizing her? Glancing up at her professor and noting that he wasn't paying attention to her, Sam looked back at her hair, shortened from the length she once had _(because long hair would just bring back memories)_.

Block perhaps? Or maybe not. It would be fairly obvious that she dyed her hair (not that it wouldn't be obvious otherwise) but maybe a deep rich brown. It would blend in with her eyebrows, and it would look more natural.

_'But what shade?' _she thought, twirling her pencil in her hand, '_Auburn? Hm, too similar? Or maybe a chesnut brown like Scam's-'_

She forced herself to stop that train of thought.

_'Hah. Look at me', _she thought mockingly, _'A year has passed and I still can't get over the guy who ruined my life.' _

Though if she was fair to him, it wasn't really his fault. She couldn't have predicted that WOOHP would act so ... harshly.

_'Is that how Scam betrayed WOOHP? Because WOOHP betrayed him first?' _

She wouldn't put it past them.

Her fingers started to shake, and she tapped her pencil against the desk softly, careful not to attract attention. Biting her lip, Sam looked outside at the soft white flurries that were falling down the sky. As if the snow was falling on her, Sam pulled the folds of her black and white checkered pea coat closer together to create some sense of warmth.

_Not that she's felt anything but ice since she was branded a traitor. _

She needed a smoke.

That sudden thought urged Sam to feel around for her cigarettes and without any remorse she stood up and left the lecture room.

'_Finally__.__'_

Inhaling the cigarette between her lips, Sam closed her eyes and let a wave of comfort wash over her heart, as if warming the organ with ice- comforting yet painful at the same time.

'_Perhaps I've become a masochist.' _

The thought amused Sam who had a wry grin on her face as she leaned against the brick walls of the prestigious university.

'_At least there's no WOOHP here...' _Sam thought with some comfort. It's what had stopped her from heading into New York City. Although the mass population there would have given Sam the opportunity to be well hidden, there was another WOOHP building located there.

_She didn't think she could take it. _

She inhaled again before breathing out black.

_She wouldn't admit missing WOOHP because it would just make her __break__. _

Glimpsing at her watch, Sam realized that five minutes had passed. She should probably be getting in now. Dumping her cigarette to the floor before digging her boot into the ground on top of it, Sam sighed shakily before a figure caught her eye.

'_No...' _

As if ice had formed around her feet, Sam felt herself unable to move; frozen in that one spot with the remains of the once-burning cigarette staining the ground.

Her jaw had dropped open when she had seen him, and she couldn't find the energy to bring it back up.

'_What... is he doing here?' _

Panic almost settled into her skin before the once impassive girl started tearing up, her eyes burning in pain as she tried holding in the weakness. She tried forming words out to call him but refrained herself; doing such a thing would bring his attention to her.

'_He's supposed to be in JAIL.' _

The shock began wearing away as anger seeped into her pores. How dare he? Her entire LIFE was sacrificed because of criminals; _he _had the nerve to get _out_?

'_Was he the only one? Was the rest of LAMOS out as well?' _

_'Why were they _here?'

The rational part of Sam's mind tried explaining that it could have been someone else, but Sam knew it was him. If the clothes didn't give him away, the hair certainly did.

'_What was Boogie Gus doing out of jail?' _

Seeing the aforementioned man walking away with his hands in his pockets and a black overcoat showing off his purple-clad legs, Sam began shadowing him, keeping her eyes trained on him even though he attempted to blend in with a crowd.

'_I might be "_evil"_ Boogie Gus, but I still have all the traits of a WOOHP spy.'_

'_Which makes me dangerous.' _

'_Like Scam.' _

Sam bit her lip as Boogie Gus made a left into a less crowded area, making her appearance on the streets much more obvious. She just kept her distance from him and hoped he didn't look back.

Yet she felt the adrenaline in her rushing quickly as she hid behind a building.

How did she forget how… _good _it felt? To sneak on people? To plan behind their backs? To hide behind skinny buildings with a smirk on her face, her heart lifting up in a momentary high?

_The same feeling as a cigarette…_

Sam smirked as she saw Boogie Gus's ridiculous afro in front of her, clear in her line of sight.

'_Almost there…'_

He paused in mid step. She could almost feel the cotton of his shirt within her grasp…

'_I'll catch you, and then I'll—' _

Sam froze.

Boogie Gus had begun to walk away, unaware that Sam had almost gotten a hold on him. Yet she stood frozen, _idiot you're letting him get away!, _unable to move her legs forward.

Sure, at this rate she had a two hundred percent chance of capturing him.

But then what?

That thought alone made her heart sink, as if a heavyweight was attached to it, pulling it so deep into her body that she couldn't feel it anymore. She could no longer feel the bursts of icy winds hitting her face; instead she felt numb, as if the air around her had froze and she had frozen along with it.

The scenes around her turned blurry but Sam only gulped before blinking back the tears.

She turned around and headed back for college.

_She was just a little girl. _

_A lonely, useless little girl._

* * *

She should have worn gloves today.

That's what her numb fingers told her at least, while she rolled the burning cigarette between her fingers in idle thought. She kept her gaze on her black boots, long and slender yet at the same time durable enough to wear in bad weather.

_She used to love boots with heels. _

Sam looked up and gazed at the few people who chose to go outside today despite the temperature feeling like it was 15 degrees. Letting out a soft sigh and watching her breath in the air, Sam put the cigarette in her mouth and inhaled once more before butting out the cigarette and pushing it to the ground.

Sam continued to look at her boots and a normal person passing by would just think that she was admiring them.

_Things aren't always what they seem… _

Underneath the façade of a girl admiring her possessions (not that she had much anyway), Sam was calculating in her head. Her apartment cost $1200 per month. It was the lowest she could get for now. A heavy sum, but at least she had put away another $10 in savings for her books because of the tips she had gotten this month.

Sam sighed, looking at the boots that were on their way to being worn out, and silently hoped that it wouldn't snow tomorrow so that she could wear her sneakers instead.

* * *

She was smoking?

He had to rub his eyes to make sure he wasn't imagining things.

But the sight of the redhead, the once pure, untainted goody-goody that he used to fight, _smoking_ had shocked him. Well he certainly couldn't say he expected _that. _

Scam dug his hands deeper into his pockets before crossing the street, getting closer to her so that he could verify that it really _was _Sam.

However, he had 2020 vision and he knew what he saw.

He just didn't _believe _it.

She put out her cigarette before putting her hands in her pockets to warm them up. _'Not wearing gloves I see.' _The old Sam would have never risked her health in any way.

But here she was, smoking and wearing less than she should have.

Did that coat even _warm her up_? He thought, before pushing the thought away when he remembered that he really didn't care.

She pushed herself off the wall she was leaning on and started walking his way, her head bowed down and not seeing him. With a slight smirk on his face, Scam intentionally stayed in the line of the path she was walking before she bumped into him.

Just as she was about to look up he walked away, making sure she didn't see his face.

"Sorry", she heard her mumble, and with an even bigger smirk he replied with, "It's fine."

He didn't need to turn around to see Sam's head whip up at the sound of his voice.

But his hair was covered by his hat and he was wearing a dark blue coat instead of his usual black one, so she couldn't recognize him just from his back.

Glancing behind her through the corner of his eye, he saw Sam shake her head and walk away, her hands digging deeper into her pockets.

* * *

"I'll have your sandwich special. With a Coke."

Sam smiled, _fake, fake, fake, _before scribbling the order on her notepad. "Anything else sir?"

The man shook his head and Sam went back to have someone ready his order.

She looked up at the clock, noticing how her shift was due to end soon. With a small sigh Sam leaned back on the counter, rubbing her tired eyes after she noticed the time. It was nearing midnight and the diner would close. Then she would go home, take a quick shower, and attempt to sleep and fail and then immerse herself in her studies.

Looking out the windows of the diner, Sam felt a small shiver of fear at the darkened streets. Her apartment was relatively close by, and if she didn't have any school work to do, then she'd get up and stretch out her muscles and maybe practice some fighting moves silently. So at least she was _kind of _prepared for anything.

_It'd be nice to have a laser lipstick to ward off idiots though._

When the order was ready she brought it to the man, (who looked like he had just gotten home from work and was in no mood to face his wife, but who was she to judge?), she looked back out the windows, her eyes squinting at a dark figure who was nearing a street lamp. Who would be out this late?

_Besides you? _

She ignored the inner voice.

The figure had stopped moving and Sam planned an alternate route to take home just in case, before bringing her attention back to the man who was almost done eating his dinner. Sighing quietly before taking one last look at the dark figure in the background, Sam picked up his bill and brought it to his table.

His mouth full, he nodded as a show of thanks and Sam gave him a small smile back before looking back at the window.

And she froze.

Because underneath that streetlamp was the white-haired man who bore a strangely close resemblance to Jerry.

_Terrance? _She thought in shock.

She looked closely and saw that it was indeed him, and Sam glanced at the man who, in the midst of her shock, had already left with crisp bills in the folds of the small black folder, and looking back she saw that her boss had left her the note saying she had to close up tonight. Sam looked back outside, but no one was there.

She was either hallucinating, or three criminals (well two; the guy who sounded just like Scam didn't count and Sam blamed her stupid Scam-centered subconscious for even thinking it was him) were in Cambridge. With her.

_Were they looking for her? _

And if they were here, then WOOHP couldn't be far behind. And then they'd find her. Here. In Cambridge.

Sam felt her heart drop.

* * *

**Well I was SUPPOSED to give you a bigger cliffhanger, but I suppose it just makes more action for the next chapter. And I will warn you guys now, the next chapter gets… mad serious. Shit goes down. :P This chapter may seem like it's not much but it really does develop the plot :)**

**Please review! Am I portraying Sam's life correctly? Could you guys feel the emotions? (my main purpose here)**

**Love,  
****Ivy **


	4. Chapter 4

They were out there. Terrance. Boogie Gus. She'd say Scam too but that was probably her brain rotting while she wasted her life away.

They were out there and she couldn't even _do _anything about it. The thought upset her more than she could ever put into words. She chewed on her lower lip.

Dammit couldn't WOOHP keep their fucking criminals behind bars for once? For a so called high tech agency, too many criminals escaped their bars easily. Now they were out there, probably near her area and when they saw her, what was she supposed to do? Beat them up and tie them for WOOHP to find and put back in jail? Sure, why didn't she just go paint a fucking target on her head? It would make finding her easier.

They'd connect the dots: Sam went to Harvard, and now there was a vigilante rounding up in Cambridge. They'd find her in seconds. She didn't want that. She thinks.

She sighed, tapping her foot on the ground while she stared at the bleak walls of her apartment.

She could feel the days passing by slowly and slowly, and in the midst of her silent torture all she could think about was the fact that her life was going nowhere.

_What am I doing? _

A year ago she'd be able to list off everything she wanted to do in life, (become a doctor, build a hospital in a third world country, and once Jerry even hinted that he wanted her to become head of WOOHP—hah obviously that's a joke now), and now she couldn't even remember why she kept breathing.

A packet of cigarettes lay innocently next to her, but the small white rolls were thrown around her bed when she had thrown it down in blind anger an hour ago when she got home. The sight of those criminals was burned in the back of her mind, and she wished she could scratch those images off her brain. She was sick of this. Sick of pretending to have some kind of life, sick of pretending to be normal, sick of living in the past, sick of pretending and telling herself that nothing was wrong with her even though she could feel the folds of sanity slipping by her each day… sick of pretending in general.

Sam raised her hand to her mouth unconsciously and starting to bite her nails five minutes after tapping her toes incessantly on the ground wasn't satisfying her need to fidget.

_Buzzbuzzbuzzbuzzbuzz_

The vibrations of her phone against her chest made her jump before she realized where the vibrations were coming from. Curiously looking at her phone, (because she really didn't talk to many people; who the hell was calling her?) she picked it up and put it next to her ear.

"Sam? It's Laura."

"Oh, hey", she said, trying to make her voice stop sounding like she was a paranoid criminal waiting for WOOHP to find her any second now. "What's up?"

"I know this is last minute, and I'm _really sorry_, but can we switch shifts today _please_?"

Sam exhaled a breath of relief. Good. Something to do. She had already re-read her textbooks to the point of memorization and trying to take a nap was a joke at this point, and so she had been sitting and thinking, but sitting and thinking kept making her remember how much of a failure at life she was.

"Sure", she said, hoping she didn't sound too happy.

"Oh my God THANK YOU", she said with an air of excitement. Sam was about to say thank you when Laura jumped into a different topic, "See, there's this guy who comes to the diner, you know the tall one, black hair, brown eyes, orders the same thing every day—oh you know who I'm talking about. Well he _asked me out_ and—"

Sam found herself tuning Laura out. It wasn't like she didn't like Laura, she did. It's just … what does that kind of stuff matter anymore. People love you and trust you and you do the same for them and then when you're turned around they take a metaphorical knife and stab you in the back when things don't go their way. People aren't trustworthy. They _betray. _What good is loving someone if there's always a chance that they'll tear you away from everything you love later? All because you let them into your life in the _first _place?

"—So thank you SO much Sam. I owe you big time."

"Sure", Sam said in a small voice. "See you later."

She hung up and then the room got darker and more silent. Maybe tuning out Laura was a bad decision. At least there was somebody happy in her life. Even if it wasn't her. Even if it seemed like it would never _be _her. Listening to someone's good fortune made her stop remembering how alone she was, at least, for a few minutes.

_Then it came back. Crawling like a monster and eating away at her soul. _

She wasn't sure how much more of this she could take.

She sat there quietly for five more minutes because the need to just go out and _do something_ wasn't in her blood. Eventually she slowly stood up, changed her clothes, grabbed her keys and phone and left.

* * *

It happened when she was at the diner. She was just cleaning up a few tables, getting some orders, when she heard the news on the small TV located in the diner for the customers to watch.

Her ears picked up the words that slowly engraved themselves into her mind. A mass breakout. Criminals. Beverly Hills, California.

Criminals. In Beverly Hills.

"Shit", she whispered under her breath, and turned around to face the TV. '_**WOOHP.' **_There was Jerry, giving a press conference on how the agency was going to round up all the criminals they could find. They had already gathered 120 of them. The other 290 were still out there. Pictures of the criminals could be found online as well as the ongoing list that was being played on the TV. Names, pictures, height, general descriptions. If anyone saw these criminals, they should report them to the police immediately. Avoid confrontations. Just call the police.

Sam felt her stomach collapse on itself as she watched the TV screen with wide eyes.

Once the shock died down and she had cleaned up a coffee spill that occurred when she dropped the cup, Sam felt the anger bubble and rise in her.

Those _criminals, _the cause of her exile, were out. Roaming free. Jerry had the gall to **fire** her and dump her into this lonely excuse of a life because she had _helped _a criminal escape once. Never mind the fact that she was trying to make sure he didn't _die _on her, because you know. That was against WOOHP protocol. You don't kill; you arrest. So she had taken him to his house to find the antidote. She was going to _bring him back _oh but _**no.**_ She was seen aiding a criminal in his escape. She had to have been fired. Apparently that was Jerry being nice. He should have arrested her but instead he had given her the option to pack her bags and _leave. _

Jail would have been better than this miserable existence she called living.

So now what was this? How could Jerry not SEE the mass breakout happening? It wasn't five or so criminals who secretly escaped. This had to have been orchestrated by _the entire prison_, and Jerry **missed it? **HE was the one who was careless and _let dangerous criminals roam around free_, while SHE got stuck here, alone?

No. No, that was NOT fair. How DARE he let them escape?

How dare they escape in the FIRST place? If Scam hadn't escaped that night, _she wouldn't even be here. _There they went around, parading without a care, while _she _was **stuck **in this limbo.

She already saw three (two, she corrected in her mind) of them in this goddamn place; how did she know that LAMOS wasn't stalking her down now? Was that why three (two, TWO) of the members were seen here? Because they were close to finding her? They must have heard about her exile from WOOHP. They'd want revenge right? She was here, all alone without any weapons to protect herself all because of Jerry and his stupid decision making skills. Oh gosh was that why Clover and Alex were here? Because they knew she was here too? Or because LAMOS had situated their base here?

She felt the bile rise to her throat as her paranoia crawled into the edges of her mind.

She had to protect herself. What if they came after her? No, she _knew _they would come after her. They'd want nothing more than to kill her in her sleep.

_Unless she got to them first. _

Her hands felt clammy, and she put the remaining pieces of the broken ceramic cup into the garbage can before her shaky fingers took off her apron. She grabbed her bag, quickly told her boss that she wasn't feeling well, before sprinting out of the diner and back to her apartment.

As she walked quickly on the sidewalk all she could think about was how she could protect herself. If they came after her, were her fighting skills still up to par? Oh gosh she hadn't practiced her fighting skills since… nine months ago? After three months of pushing herself and trying to retain onto the good old days, Sam found that it only hurt her more to remember what she didn't have.

Was her window protected? If they came through the front door, would she be able to see them fast enough to get a weapon? Was her bed angled at a spot so that her back was protected at all times?

_Was she even safe anymore? _

She ran up the stairs and opened her door as quickly as she could and slammed it behind her, leaving it to shake in her wake. She threw her bag down and looked around her apartment frantically, before picking up a potted plant and putting it on top of the doorway, so if anyone opened it she would hear the pot crash. She turned around and locked her window, before placing a small ceramic figurine her mother had once given her on top of the window ledge, to serve the same purpose. Locking the door, she pushed her desk in front of the heating vent and pushed her bed near the corner so that she'd have a full view of anyone who tried to enter the apartment.

Finally she fell asleep with a knife sitting next to her on the bed.

* * *

Sam was walking down the street back to her apartment. She readjusted her shoulder bag with her textbooks in it before putting her hand in her pocket. She fingered the switchblade that she had kept with her at all times. It was better safe to be sorry though she had a few close calls in the past day or so, when Laura had almost found out about the knife, or when she was careless in class and almost let someone see it.

Her senses were on edge, on fire, and she tried to control the trembling of her hand as she held the switchblade. What were the chances that she'd walk into one of them? Like really. She would be fine. She used more dangerous weapons at WOOHP before, but those weren't designed to kill.

Well, neither was this switchblade, her brain reminded her. She ignored the thought.

She adjusted the strap of the bag again before feeling something was amiss. Looking inside her bag, she groaned as she realized she had left a book in her class. She'd hope someone had found it and gave it back to the admissions office or something. Then she'd have a chance of getting it back.

Reluctantly she turned back around and started walking back to the campus. Dammit she was almost home too. Eyeing an upcoming alleyway, Sam smirked as she remembered a shortcut from here to the campus that would cut her travel time in half.

Pulling a strand of her behind her ear, Sam continued to stroke the switchblade, trying to get used to it and to push her fear away. She had dealt with lasers and grenades and weapons of mass destruction; she could deal with a little knife. Besides, it was for protection. They could be after her… any of them, and what was she supposed to do? _Let them _kill her? _Let them _win?

She'd be damned if she let them get away with it. Not after the way they ruined her life. She wouldn't stand for it.

Her book was sitting at her desk, right where she left it. She breathed a sigh of relief before putting it back in her bag. She had a test in two days.

On her way back home, she had taken the shortcut again because her feet were starting to hurt. At least she didn't have a shift tonight. She walked down the darkened streets, her finger clutching her knife like it was the Holy Grail, and kept an eye out for any criminals who might have been out there, watching her. Waiting for her to slip up.

_Get them before they get you. _

Sam inhaled deeply, before biting her lip at how long it was taking her to get home. Did she miss a turn? It was possible; she didn't take this shortcut often because it was an unfamiliar part of town, but … she should be fine. She was a former spy. And worse came to worse… she had her knife.

She wouldn't be afraid to use it. She bit her lip anyway.

She walked for another five minutes in silence, keeping her eyes downcast as the sky grew darker and darker until it turned pitch black, when she heard it. The sound of something crashing into an aluminum garbage can, and they way it cursed at itself for being clumsy told her it wasn't just an animal.

Her senses were on high alert again. She clutched the switchblade closely.

It could be nothing. Just some … homeless guy. Something. It wouldn't necessarily be a criminal; what were the chances that out of 290 criminals, one of them just _happened _to be in Cambridge?

Remembering how she saw two criminals in the past week, Sam wanted to hit herself for just making the situation worse.

She walked by as quickly as she could without drawing attention to herself, but the moonlight hit the area just right and she saw an afro. Her heart started pounding in her chest and she couldn't breathe.

'_SHIT!' _

"Well…" he said, looking at her curiously with a growing smile. Apparently the moonlight hit her as well because he could see her too. Sam straightened up. "Look what we have here."

She glared at him, "Dumpster diving? I bet being a low class criminal does that to you." She had to get out of here. If she fought him, which she was sure she could do, after all this was just Boogie Gus, no real threat, then she'd have to … capture him? Call WOOHP? She inwardly snorted; that was going to happen any time soon.

She had to get out of here.

Boogie Gus frowned. "Look who's talking. You think I haven't heard about _your _recent crime streak?" Sam kept her face impassive but inside her gut was squirming.

He grinned. "It was _all over _WOOHP. Just _wait _until I tell everyone that the goodie-two-shoes", he laughed at that, "Is hiding _here_. Defenseless. And not even Jerry will come to your rescue! He doesn't happen to _like _criminals", he said with another bark of laughter.

Sam felt herself pale. Oh God. He couldn't tell anyone else she was here. They'd slaughter her in her sleep. She felt her gut squirming more and more and her stomach doing flips and her hands turning clammy and shaky but she couldn't let him see that. She couldn't let him, any of them, see that she was weak. She had to protect herself.

"And then they'll come here…", he grinned more, his smile looking more evil in the moonlight, "And when you call Jerry, he won't even _answer your call._"

She had to protect herself. She had to. They would kill her, oh God they would kill her and as much as she hated to admit it, Boogie Gus was right. Jerry wouldn't answer her call. He didn't want anything to do with her; that much was obvious when he kicked her out of her own life. Now all those criminals were out and now Boogie Gus knew where she was and they **hated** her. Hated her for imprisoning them. She had to protect herself; she had to get away from Gus and she had to stop him from blabbing his stupid mouth off. She couldn't let him do it. Criminals already ruined her life; she wouldn't let them do it again.

He sent a kick her way but she grabbed his leg in mid air before flipping him over.

She wouldn't let them **ever** hurt her again.

He grabbed her leg and pulled her down to the ground, making her crash onto the floor. He sent a punch into her abdomen and Sam felt air leave her lungs rapidly.

This couldn't be the end. She'd be damned if she lost against them. They did this to her and she was going to make them _pay_.

She grabbed the other arm that was heading towards her neck and tightened her grip on his wrist, harder and harder until she bent it sideways as harsh as she could, ignoring his scream ("You bitch!") when she heard the crack. She couldn't let that stop her. He was going to kill her. And if he didn't, he would get the rest of his buddies to do it. He had 289 criminals on his side; any of them could be more than qualified to kill her. She couldn't face all of them alone… but she didn't have a choice. She was alone. She didn't have anyone to fall back on, and if she met her demise it would be her own damn fault.

She had to win. She had to beat him. She had to protect herself. She had to protect herself.

She had to protect herself.

With his wrist broken Sam sent another kick his way and sent him flying into the brick wall. His moans did nothing to stop her. She had to save herself _or she would die_. No one would be coming to her rescue; she was responsible for her own life. She had to stop Gus or she would be dead before the week was over.

He got up when she wasn't watching him and slammed head into a wall. She felt her surroundings spin but she didn't let it stop her. It was only when she felt his good hand wrap tightly around her throat and squeeze tightly did she take out the knife.

He didn't see it coming. Surprise was on her side. That was the one rule of WOOHP training; always have the element of surprise on your side.

She just pushed the knife into his skin without thinking; it took three stabs for him to let her go, and a fourth stab for him to collapse onto the floor in a crumpled heap.

Sam blinked before walking away, the clouds moving away and the moonlight coming back again, showing her exactly what she had done to protect herself.

_Oh God… _

She felt the bile rise to her throat but gulped to keep it in. She looked around rapidly; no one was there. No one had seen this. No one had seen his bloody body dying on the floor.

She should call the police. She should get him help. One look at her bloody hands and the bloody knife told her that was a bad idea; WOOHP already saw her in a bad light. If they found out she accidentally killed a person, who knows what they'd do to her.

Besides… an eviler part of her mind thought. If Gus was alive, he'd tell everyone, those _criminals_, that she was here in this city. The fact that she broke his wrist and stabbed him four times would only make him angrier. He'd tell… Terrance, Scam, maybe even Jerry, who had more than enough resources to find her and turn her world upside down _**again**__._

**She had to protect herself. **

Sam looked back at him and after a few moments of hesitation, turned around to walk away… If Gus was meant to survive, then he'd live. Someone would find him in time. If he wasn't meant to live, then she would get to live a little bit longer. She had to survive against them. They were criminals; they wouldn't dare play fair. So why should she?

Besides. The last time she had helped a criminal, her life was taken away from her like _that_. She still wishes to hang out with her friends; she still wishes to have a real home to live in; she still wishes to be a spy and help the world get rid of criminals. She had nothing. She _was _nothing. She was a failure.

She couldn't let them walk all over her again. This time, _she _was in charge.

* * *

**I know; not much Scam in this chapter. BUT I'll make it up to you guys by having a LOT of Scam in the next chapter, but only if you guys review! :D BUT a huge thing happened in this chapter, so please tell me what you think!**

Love,  
Ivy


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